


You Promised

by LostInQueue



Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternat Universe, Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Bonding, Feels, Fluff, Gen, Hiding, May need a box of tissues, Misunderstandings, Modern AU, communication errors, fixing problems, parenting, working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 19:33:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17814176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostInQueue/pseuds/LostInQueue
Summary: Rey and Ben have been together for years. They've gotten married and had a family but they've forgotten one of the most important elements of how to make their relationship work: communication.





	You Promised

[](https://ibb.co/nrMFqWj)

—-

Rey’s life flashes before her eyes as she watches the small stack of legal documents fall from her fingertips to her husband’s desk in slow motion.

She’s given him a full life; twenty five years of marriage to be exact. Twenty six in a month and three days, actually. Never in her life did she think she could love someone as much as she loved Ben Solo, but even strong relationships can get brittle and break.

He sits at his desk, hunching over it, playing the latest video game that she’s since detached her cares from. It’s not that she hated them. Rey loved MMOPRGs, all the way down the list to single person games. It didn’t matter if they were simple or complex, she could get into anything.

Rey hadn’t played for years, though. Specifically, after marrying Ben, she started to feel like she needed to contribute more in a way she never, learned to before. Becoming domesticated was hard. It wasn’t even a word in Rey’s repertoire when she was younger. She didn’t practice making the bed the moment she got out of it, or getting up to make breakfast for the two of them instead of showering like she did before they were married. She wasn’t a ‘Home’s and Gardens’ perfect woman, and certainly not interested in decorating their house with Yankee candles and flower pots like every other woman seemed to in those face lifestyle magazines.

It was all fine, though. All fine...she told herself.

She remembers Ben was a catch. Was. He was a decent human being, gifted power in his family’s company, if he wanted to pursue it. He was handsome. He made her heart sing when he so much as entered the room. He made her feel like she was everything, but just like that she was nothing.

Rey noticed the shift right after they finished their honeymoon, walking back into their first apartment. That place was her first decision as a married couple, that she tried to appease her foster mother with, being so close to their home. She remembers Ben being annoyed about the cramped living space, but didn’t exactly mention it upfront. They had the upstairs of a Cape Cod style home, living above the landlord: two rooms, a tiny kitchen, and narrow closet sized bathroom.

The old man was crazy. He didn’t seem so at first, dressed in his Sunday slacks, buttoned down dress shirt, and loafers, looking as though he just came home from church. Rey didn’t mind him so much. He seemed lonely, like he only lived in the north, waiting for a good offer to sell his lot in the wealthy town of Franklin Lakes, so he could move on with his retirement elsewhere. She could see sitting with him on his porch and just listening to the old man and his older friends talk about their lives. It seemed it was all anyone really wanted from her. Her time and attention.

She hoped Ben would too, forever, like he promised. But even after they came home, his attitude towards her seemed to shift. It hadn’t been more than two days when she joined him in their living room where he kept his computer and long corner desk around one side. She remembers her tiny desk and computer tucked in the small nook that jutted out far enough to shield her from view. Not that she wanted to be shielded or put in a small place, but she told herself it was the best fit, moving on from her childish fears entirely. The wall to the left of her stayed mostly blank, less the space of the corner television unit and Ben’s flat screen actually using the stand instead of being mounted on walls they didn’t own.

The back wall had two large closets on either side, where the couple stashed most of the items they collectively had together, and the ones they had separately. Between the closets sat their dark wash, jean blue couch from IKEA that Rey purchased with the scraps of money she had left from the prior week’s paycheck. She also purchased a hassock that doubled as storage which she stuffed with blankets.

Their second room, was across the hall. The hall. God, the hall. It was almost too narrow for Ben to move forward to the kitchen in, without rubbing his shoulders on the walls next to him. The second room, though, was their bedroom. It mirrored their living room in space. And because they had almost nothing, less two dressers, their bed, a night stand and a lamp, it felt so much bigger than the other.

Down the short hall way, was the kitchen, and she knew he hated it. It was practically bare. No counter space, only two cabinets above and below the counter tops, a floor to ceiling corner pantry, and the other kitchen essentials adorned the kitchen itself. Obviously a refrigerator, oven, and sink were in there too. Much to her dismay, there wasn’t a dishwasher. It wasn’t something she realized until after they were living there... and no microwave, which she relied on for practically all of her meals when she was younger.

It was fine, though. Everything was fine, until they had to share the bathroom one morning. It was a closet. Actually, a closet would have been just too big of a space to describe it as. No, it was two thirds of a closet, having only enough room for a single step in, just barely missing the stove as they moved through the kitchen to get to it. That single step in had the toilet directly in front of the one in need of the facility. Butted up right next to it, to the right was the full bath and shower, which gave way to a tight rope of a space next to it, in case the user wanted to get out of said tub. The sink wound up being shifted over to the left of the toilet, not giving much space, if anything, to the occupant either. However, the unending supply of hot water saved that slice of hell from being ripped apart at the hand of her Mr. Solo.

Being her size, it didn’t matter much to Rey, but she saw him struggle and chalked it up to being her fault. She did push for this, after all.

When they arrived home, he was just different. He almost didn’t feel like the man she married. She hoped it was just their travels catching up to them, what with having to deal with the flight, baggage claim and the ride home... maybe it was just too long of a day to want any closeness.

But it wasn’t just that day. Rey started noticing a pattern. She wasn’t allowed to touch him when he was at his computer. She wasn’t allowed to want cuddles, or to sit in the middle seat in the couch just to be next to him. She wasn’t allowed any of it anymore. That is, unless he wanted it. Ben would be the only one allowed to initiate intimacy, making Rey feel uneasy. It felt as if the abandonment she ran from as a child was catching up to her with every allowance of his actions.

She found herself craving anything she could get, hanging on his every last word, wanting to give him the family he said he wanted before his late thirties.

“I want to be a father before thirty—one,” he says, correcting himself mid sentence, already being thirty at the time.

Rey, being only twenty two, and clearly in love, wanted nothing more than to give this to him. She promised herself she was ready, despite the disturbance she felt with him, thinking that maybe it was just nerves.

Getting Ben to bed proved to be far harder than she expected with what he had revealed. But when it magically did happen, and she did conceive, she told him the day she found out with such joy she could light the sky with the happiness in her heart. Her. The one that was constantly told she’d never be anything to anyone, now had a husband and a peanut of hope growing inside of her. And when she told him, he stared through her, making her feel like her and their news was nothing.

Rey made it to about four months before her grief over her husband’s inability to see this new life as a blessing and comfort her proved to be too much stress for the baby...and because of it, she lost him.

Lost.

Rey was utterly lost in a cold relationship she never saw coming. They always had such fire, such heat between the two that put others to shame. Ben and Rey knew each other. They knew their strengths and weaknesses. They listened to each other. They could handle everything, because they had each other.

But that was back then. When he still loved her.

Since then, Rey handled sever depression, blaming herself for losing their child. She rapidly lost weight, and couldn’t focus on much anymore. Death was all she could see. It was all she wanted, thinking maybe their child would love her, if she ever got to see him again.

Life carried on, and Rey tried continuously to change who she was to find the person Ben wanted in his life, but found no resolve. Instead she started trying to move on without him. Rey never once though about actually leaving him though, because that would confirm that his love was never really hers. She couldn’t bare to deal with that. Not now. Not ever.

She held on for another few years, restarting her business to help with finances, but found it was more detrimental to her mental stability to create items for the outside world. As her business grew, so did her confidence. Ben started talking to her again. Usually about stuff she didn’t understand, but it was nice to finally hear his voice.

They moved twice, finally settling in a starter home near his parents when Ben was ready to try again. It made Rey worry that she wouldn’t fulfill his appetite. It had been so long. She was sure he would never want her again. Rey almost sobbed when he kissed her. Her eyes welled with tears as his palms rediscovered her curves and his fingers toyed with places she never thought he’d touch again.

She gave in letting him have his way, hoping that this one time wouldn’t be their last. Her body tingled painfully, as if she had been struck by lightning when he came. She, of course, did not, but she thanked him for his time any way. Ben gave her attention a few more times that month and by some miracle she got pregnant again; that time with twins.

That was another hurtle she found herself dealing with alone. She managed though, knowing full well, Ben would not help. It didn’t hurt as badly with the twins as it did before, knowing that he would be stand-offish.

Happily ever after didn’t seem to effect him like she thought. In fact, Ben just seemed sad. Like giving Rey his dream of fatherhood was a huge mistake, and she knew it. But her younglings came easily that time, changing their lives yet again.

Twins meant more time fussing over children and less of Rey’s time for Ben, which sadly wasn’t much of a change from their usual lifestyles. Instead of helping, he locked himself in his room, ignoring her and the children for time with his friends.

It hurt but the thought of leaving with twins seemed to be an awful idea. He would no doubt jump to conclusions that there has always been someone else, and threaten to take her children, that he barely spends time with, from her. How could he possibly know what they needed? And at the very least, Rey was never after his money, and she was sure that would be a big concern for him, too. She was sure he would obsess and tell her she never loved him, which would hurt more than it does now. No. Rey would never leave. She steeled herself and did her best for her family, even if he didn’t want to be a part of it.

Rey just barely got by several more years before he touched her again. By then she had fully reverted back to her previous self—well before she met Ben. She’d handle fits of rage when the stress of caring for two very independent boys would bubble over. Not well, actually. And she was never proud of it. But at some point her family needed to know she was a person too. If her husband couldn’t see it, her children would know. They would know their unit was meant to be a team. That they were important, just as she was.

And when Ben came around again, like he used to, when they were dating...God, she held on to that. That maybe after this round in parenting, maybe they’d heal what had been broken. Maybe deep down, he still loved her. She hadn’t been tossed to the side yet, forced to find a new home, physically. So maybe it wasn’t actually happening. Maybe she could set this aside, again. Maybe...

And there he was again, pushing her for more, wanting her time, her presence... her body. It felt like it used to. It felt like... it meant something. His hands clutched her face as if she was precious. He leaned what she thought were loving kisses into her lips, making her open herself yet again to him. Here, she could touch him. Being this way... only this way... if he initiated it, she was wanted.

Rey would hold on to the feelings of his touch; his heat radiating on her skin. She would remember the pressure of his kiss, his tongue’s dances with her own. She’d commit the way he’d capture her soft gasps as if she created the very oxygen he breathed, to memory. There, at least, she could relive this passion when it was over.

Her body would betray her every time he’d touch her, too, allowing him access to everything he wanted, because in these moments, she could find him. In these moments, he was hers.

As amazing as the sex was, and as often as she could remember the way he felt in her most sensitive places, it was always over just as quickly as it came on. She could die happily wrapped up in the aftermath of their lovemaking, though. All she ever wanted from him was to feel his love. It wasn’t the activity or their day to day lives that mattered as much. She just needed the contact. His touch. A hug, a kiss, those kind words he’d mutter to her even when they were outside of the comfort of their home.

He promised he’d never hurt her. He promised he’d never leave...and back then she believed him.

But then, however, as his spend shot deep inside her, she knew he didn’t want her to lie back onto him. He ran off every time to the shower, put his clothes back on and would go tinker with something just to avoid her. And just like that, the sequence had played out.

That time though, she laid in their bed, and sobbed. Nothing was right. Their connection was just one of bodies and nothing more.

In the weeks to come she missed her period, but never told him. He didn’t want to know anyway. She could see his eyes stare through her and didn’t need another example of his disinterest.

Rey saw out her medical visits on her own, mostly, while the twins were in school. Her business boomed and she was able to have her own insurance, placing her soon to be three children on it, too. She couldn’t handle any more arguments about money or Ben’s needs to spend his earnings on what he wanted, instead of what his family needed. Rey supported their kids instead. When the boys needed clothes, soccer gear, shoes, school supplies, hair cuts... Rey was right there making sure they got what they needed.

She became the mother she needed when she was younger, for her own.

When she began to grow, Ben immediately accused her of cheating.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she remembers him ask.

“You didn’t want to know,” she spat.

“What? When did I say—“

“You don’t have to,” she whined, and backed up into the corner of the kitchen, recoiling from him. Her muscles ached for his touch. A hug. But he wouldn’t give it, she was never worthy enough. “I’ve tried, twice, with the other pregnancies. And you just don’t care.”

Ben stood there in shock. For a moment she thought she saw pain, but he blinked it away, like it was nothing. And then it was. He walked away, and left for the night.

Rey remembered being found by one of the twins, Benjamin... who was named after his father out of pride. She wanted him to find strength in their family. That he was important enough, but he didn’t seem to understand the gesture. Benjamin and his brother Matthew were identical physically, but not close mentally. They both were light skinned, and had their fathers’s birthmarks scattered over their bodies like their own constellations. Benjamin had one on his earlobe and Matthew did not. While their hair was short, she could check at a glance to see which she was talking to.

The two would often cover their ears to see if their mother knew them without seeing their little hint. Benjamin and Matthew were always impressed with their mother that’s she knew them down to their last trick. She knew that Benjamin was more sensitive than Matthew. Benjamin’s quietness always seemed to get in the way of how his teachers measured his intelligence. They honestly didn’t know the gift they had been given, and all they needed to do was encourage him to see it.

Matthew, on the other hand, could light up the room. His charisma was bar-none the best she’d ever seen. He could walk into anything, school, a store, the soccer field get an everyone riled up and excited for their day. He was just that type of kid, despite his home life with his father.

Being that they were still so good and innocent, she hated it when one of them would find her crying. It always seemed to be Benjamin first. He’d tell her it was okay, in his sweet little boy voice, and wrap her in a hug that, even though he couldn’t reach all the way around her, was so comforting she’d try not to cry harder. Benjamin would cry because she was, but that too would end and they’d find a rainbow, sharing something sweet with each other, like a few Oreos and milk. Of course they always set a place for Matthew if he came out, but most of the time he was off being insanely happy collecting all of the coins he could find in his hand held Super Mario game to notice.

Rey did her best. She really did....

——

As the papers land on his desk, Ben hears something knock over one of his figurine groupings. She knows he hates that, and wasn’t aiming to displease him yet again, for that reason at least. He turns at a frightful speed, but she’s been hollowed out emotionally for nearly every care she could possibly give.

His jaw shifts, baring his teeth as if someone had come to start a fight, knocking over his action figures; the only things that he seemed to care for anymore. He expects to see little hands taking what’s his, but his children have since grown, and gone on to start their own lives.

Benjamin legally changed his name to Kylo, wanting nothing to do with his father, or his name. He knew the man treated his mother like garbage, and she gave everything to them. He was the last to move out, making sure his brother Matthew, and little sister Bianca, BiBi for short, got out first. There was a war brewing, he was sure of it. And Kylo, didn’t want his siblings to find out the rotten truth he knew about his parents partnership. Dad’s love for her never existed, or was dwindling. And Mom? Well, Mom was one straw away from collapsing. In all of the medical journals he ever read, he never came across dying from a broken heart...but he was sure he didn’t need his siblings to see history in the making.

Kylo went on to study psychology, obtaining his doctorate in relationship studies. He figured he had enough knowledge going into it, he would do just fine starting his own practice.

As for his twin, Matthew, he did quite well in the stock market. Not that she thought he was incompetent, but he showed no real interest while he was in school. Matthew was more of a class clown than anything else back then. If being one of the guys was a class offered in school, he would have aced it. Matthew could say anything to anyone and still be praised for it. Maybe it was that, and his love of numbers that got him into stocks. Whatever the reason, she was proud of him either way.

Bianca was born three years after her boys. Even at a young age she was a tough, independent, and she considered herself an old soul. She did well in school—she excelled at practically everything which gave her the opportunity to go to college on scholarship. BiBi, though, had her life planned out. She took a year off to study abroad before finding that the world was just too corrupt to be interested in a business plan. Instead of attending college, she joined the Air Force, making future plans to become a police officer after her service was completed. Bianca always had her ducks in a row. She knew what she wanted from day one, planned out to her last. If she ever made it to ninety nine that is. Oddly enough, she only wanted to live until then. She could be ninety nine years and three hundred and sixty four days old, that was fine. But the girl had even planned her funeral, wanting to be cremated so her loved ones could disperse her remains in ninety nine red balloons. Bianca wanted to be remembered as “that girl.” The one that kept people smiling even when they were hurting. She wanted to make life mystical again. BiBi would too, because her mother made the sacrifices she did.

Rey knew her children would be alright no matter what their father decided. She still had them and they still had her.

As Ben realizes it’s his wife, he glances at the papers. He doesn’t seem to see them for what they are.

“What are those?” he snaps at her.

Rey’s eyes cast downward waiting for him to read it. Responding softly, she says, “What you asked for.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” he says acidly.

Rey’s sure he hasn’t read the stack yet. Ben had been known to throw awful tantrums, and he hasn’t started yet. She stood in his office, feeling her soul depart from her when she nodded, assuring him that he did.

Ben’s glare pulled away from her form and she feels slightly cooler from it. Her body itself began to tingle waiting for the outburst. And as he lifts to his feet, presumably after his eyes caught the word “Divorce” in the header, he reaches for every monitor he has mounted to the wall, ripping them off of each arm and throwing them down in such a rage fit, that she should have been terrified. But she was destroyed so many times already, it didn’t phase her.

There she stood, barely making a sound as he continued destroying his world around her. Shards of glass, plastic and painted Sheetrock flew around them in slow motion. Pieces hit her but she couldn’t feel them. She stood, however, in the fog of their relationship that settled over the years, unable to move. Unable to feel... or speak...

When he finished destroying everything in his room, he snatched the papers, shoving them in her face as if she were an animal that shit the rug.

“This? You want this?” he demands to know. His voice somehow has the privilege to sound....hurt.

What a lovely time to try to pretend to have feelings she thought. Rey shakes her head as much as she can, only showing her move slightly. It’s all she can manage. It’s all she’s strong enough to do.

“Then, why?!” his voice rang through their house, but not through her.

“You...” Rey has a terrible time trying to get the words to formulate. Her lips defy her brain each time.

“Me?!” Ben is too impatient to wait for her answer. “What did I do?!” he shouts his question.

“You wanted this,” she says as her words barely make it out on a breath.

“I did not—“

She nods, promising the printed white pages in the back could prove otherwise. He glares at her, not wanting to pick up the pages, when she adds, “You promised you’d never hurt me, Ben.”

Her words wound him, and his first response is anger, yet again. “I did not hurt you, Rey!” he shouted.

Rey tries to nod again, unable to look at him when he smoothed out the pages in his hand. He flips through them hurriedly as if the paper is burning him until he gets to the white paper she spoke of. There she had years worth of comments, he made and actions that he did to her that she actually tried to correct—only to fail repeatedly.

When he skims it he stills. They’re all dated. Some with multiple times repeated throughout the day, too.

Silence stretches between them as he finishes the list of terrible things he’s done over the years, including telling her he wanted a divorce over the stupidest things, and then trying to pass it off like it was a joke. He’d say it if dishes weren’t put away, or if dinner wasn’t ready when he got home. He’d tell her much of the same when he didn’t want to be stuck playing with the kids, or when she started wanting showers at night for her personal time, or when she was pregnant for the third time...

He read on to a couple of instances where he physically gripped her face in anger, not wanting to go to parties held by other people for their sons’ enjoyment. It was summer, exceptionally hot and he didn’t want to go be awkward with his own family, with his kids he clearly ignored.

She ended her notes describing all of the times he touched her, reminding him of a love they once shared. That she missed him, as they were before they were married... when he still loved her.

Ben’s lips puckered while he chewed on these horrendous statements. They were true. All of them. And now that she was giving him a way out, he wasn’t sure if he actually wanted it.

When Rey was sad she used to run. She would run bare foot, even in the winter, to get to her tiny space in the garage to cry. But today, all she can do is collapse. She doesn’t feel the pain of landing on the broken monitor pieces. Her full weight dropped her with force to the ground, but she felt nothing.

No sound.

No vision.

No love.

She is just gone.

Not physically. Her body lies there, weeping. While her soul detaches from her watching Ben leave the room...floating there as if it is another person. He walks down the hall and rips apart their grown children’s rooms. He screams awful things that her physical form cannot hear. In some ways Ben expects her to rush to his side to stop him. But she doesn’t and it burns him, adding fuel to the fire.

He smashes the framed pictures of their children that she decorated with, and their childhood treasures she always made a big deal about. He spits the hatred of his choices with ever curse, damning himself to a family that never loved him. He lands his fist, finally, through their only wedding photograph, cutting his knuckle on impact.

His heavy breathing gives way to pure sorrow for himself, since he truly believes that no one else actually cares about him. His face falls as he studies the way she used to look at him, remembering just how happy she actually was back then. Tears form and fall from his eyes as his rage subsides. The more he looks at them together in their youth, he can hear one of his vow to her at the altar echo through his mind.

“I promise to protect you when you are weak...” his distant voice seems deeper, with every passing promise. It calls him back to the time when he knew her love was unwavering. She was so fierce, and lovely, and his. God, it felt so good to be wanted by her. But then, everything changed, and he never knew why.

Ben notices their stained photograph, wondering if Rey will even want it now. He looks around the room he’s in, noticing it belonged to the twins, and wonders where their belongings even came from.

Their room was large enough to give them ample space, not having to stuff them in bunk beds well into their adult life. He remembers seeing them in their space a handful of times, wondering once or twice if that made him a bad father. Back then he was angered by the cost of the full beds, and their desks they found at IKEA, that the boys both helped their mother put together. Even then, Rey pulled out her card, keeping Ben from feeling the pain of taking care of his own family.

The more he thinks about it, he realizes that Rey never spent a penny of his money. He groans when he remembers telling her not to. That his money belonged to him and not the family. That he needed it so he could be happy. He sees her face loose the light that used to burn brightly for him, dim yet again, as it slipped out.

It’s then when he remembers Bianca and how terrible he was to her, not accepting her as his own until Rey finally allowed the blood test. Bianca was three, receiving a finger prick, and a miniature test tube of blood taken from her to ease her stupid father’s concerns. How could he not see that she was his? Bianca’s skin tone is just a shade lighter than his own, and at birth she had more hair than both of the boys. And she had birthmarks scattered all over her skin, just like him too.

Ben didn’t want anything to do with her. He wouldn’t hold her, or sit in the same room with her, even while she was eating. Rey literally raised his three children on her own. For a moment he wonders why she never reached out for him the way she did for her children. Why she stopped trying all together.

As his rage dissipates completely, Ben decides to do what he should have done all this time, and begins to clean up his mess. He starts with his destruction in the boys’ room. Ben picks up the photos and frames he’s broken, fitting them together the best he can, and looks up frames on Amazon to replace the ones he completely destroyed. He then looks for the shards of glass he can see on the tan rug, picking them up to throw them out in the kitchen.

Expecting that Rey’s gone, he doesn’t even look at his office, where she still lays. Ben’s too focused on making these things right again. He first tosses the pieces in the garbage, grabs the vacuum, and the krazy glue, too. He spends a tremendous amount of time cleaning up, so much so that he hasn’t realized that the sun has set and he’s in need of food.

Surely, Rey’s gotten up, he thinks... as he puts away the items he used.

But she hasn’t. She’s still there.

He wonders if she’s being dramatic, or has fallen asleep. He reminds himself that she’s not theatrical, but really shouldn’t see the mess he made in the boys room, assuring himself that she’ll be hurt by it.

He sucks in a breath, realizing his mistakes—that he started this. He promised her she’d never feel alone again. She’d always have him. He’d always protect her. And he hasn’t. This whole time they’ve been together, all they’ve done is fall apart.

Ben felt pain, feeling abandoned by his own wife over the years. Rey used to have a fiery spirit, telling him when he was wrong. She’d stand toe to toe with him, making sure he heard her. She made sure there would be a change. But even that slipped away from her.

Over the years, Ben watched her change. First to go was her touch. Instead of excitedly embracing him when ever she felt like it, she stood with clasped hands, held in towards her chest. She started holding things when she spoke to him so she didn’t have to feel unwelcome...so she could have a purpose.

When they made love, it didn’t feel the same either. It felt like she just wanted it to be over. And when it was, he would leave; he figured she didn’t want him there, so why stay?

Having children was a terrifying thought. He wanted them though. He wanted his wife’s happiness. He wanted all of the spoils of “happily ever after” because he thought she deserved it. When she mentioned her first pregnancy, he was too scared to speak. He didn’t want to be excited, thinking it was too early to obsess. But as he stared at her he didn’t see how his lacking response effected her.

Rey started to shut down. She started looking for tiny places, starting first with the space under the table. He remembers her freezing when he found her the first time. When he asked what was bothering her, she silently cried into her knees, telling him she had a migraine and the light was hurting her eyes.

He knew she was lying. She always was a bad liar.

The second time he found her, she tucked herself in the bath tub. She brought a towel in with her to cover up if he found her. Ben wondered if something else was triggering it. If she was having stress related relapses, or if her nightmares were back, never once imagining it was something he was doing to her.

When they moved to their third apartment, which was more of a starter home, really, they lived next to Ben’s parents. By then the twins were born, and she had help—the help he was too afraid to give. He sighs at himself. Rey raised them, had her postpartum spells, and lived in constant worry. It didn’t help much that he was a dick during those years. He acted out like a toddler because he felt like she didn’t have enough love to go around. As if he wasn’t important enough to be noticed.

But when she did notice, his outlook brightened, and this strange sense of protectiveness coursed through his veins. It’s exactly why they had Bianca. He finally felt her touch again; her love. Ben held onto those moments as if his life depended on them...but once it was over, he didn’t see her the same way. As if he resurfaced from their golden memories of passion, only to find their present despair. As Ben left, he wanted her to tell him to stay. If she did he would have. But not a single sound left her as she watched him go. If he waited just a second more, he would have heard her cry.

Over the years Ben would follow her to the garage, watching in the shadows, as she tucked herself into the smallest space she could find. There she could let it out, whatever was hurting her. There the truth would come out in awful whispers between sobs.

As they got worse, Ben reached out to a therapist he could speak to online. All of their conversations were timestamped and he was charged generously for going over time usually. Ben would try her advice and he’d come back with observations, spurring in more requests, trying to gauge how far gone Rey actually was. Never once did she suggest to touch her, though. They were still figuring out where she was emotionally; they really didn’t think about something so simple.

Ben’s eyes cast downward to the mail on the table. A few red and pink envelops sit next to a heart shaped vase with his wife’s favorite flowers: daisies, peonies, and camellias. All of which she loved especially for each of her children, but Ben never knew that or the reason. He just figured it was harder to purchase those in particular. It takes him a second to realize what today is.

He’d been lost to time and dates over the years, solely relying on Rey’s interest in decorating to help him along with each holiday. Even that died out as the kids got older. When they all left Rey would only put the holiday on the calendar in the kitchen, and nothing more.

He reaches for his phone to verify that it is in fact Valentine’s Day—and she fucking served him divorce papers. The pain rips through him, nearly knocking him over. In his self pity, he lowers his gaze again to the table. His eyes then fall on a letter from the same hospital their children were born at. He reaches for it, wondering, after all these years, why they want his wife’s attention now. He figures it’s just a fundraising tool, getting the community to pay for another expensive wing.

It’s not.

Ben covers his mouth when he reads:

“We are pleased to inform you that you’re now considered in remission...”

The letter goes on to discuss what to expect for ovarian cancer survivors, listing their lives in categories based on their levels and a five year plan. The letter is highlighted by her bracket, making him feel even sicker. His mind races wondering why she didn’t ever tell him; why she chose to face it alone.  
His thoughts slip to his past, when they first met. Rey was just a child. They both were, really. He remembered it being cold enough for snow when she approached him on his parent’s stoop. Their house was always decorated for every season, and his mother loved Valentine’s Day enough to leave the red Christmas lights up until the end of the month. His father was mature enough not to say anything about it, letting her rule the roost in terms of design, and most everything else.

Ben sat outside for long enough after school that the elementary school’s buses had been by, the old lady across the street had taken her dog for a walk, and the curious little girl, who never seemed to be down, played in the tree in her front yard. Valentine’s Day for Ben was another day to feel less adequate to most of society, but not to her. She may not have been at an age to give him the desired affection he wanted from anyone, but she still saw his sorrow, and went to him.

He remembers how Rey approached slowly. She wanted to be sure that it was alright she was there. When his eyes connected with hers, she couldn’t help but stand straight and act a little spooked, until he offered a smile.

Rey stood where she was, rustling through her small pleather satchel she wore at her hip, pulling out the small stuffed bear he always watched her play with.

“This is Chewie,” her small voice sung in the air as she spoke. “He’s always got the best ideas. And we go on the most amazing adventures...” Rey had the courage to step right up to him, saying, “I think you need him more than I do. You look like you need an adventure.” The girl sat by his side speaking, even though he wouldn’t. He let her talk for the better part of an hour before the street lamp came on. He watched as the girl ran from his stoop back into her yard, knocking on the door to be allowed back in.

Ben’s face falls now, as it did when she ran back to her lot back then. It reminds him of every time she ran away from him. But back then it was different. Every day she would always meet him there, exploring with the bear she gave him, speaking for Chewie as she always did, encouraging him on as his spirits lifted. She’d only run home when it was time. Never a second before.

He thinks about the times she was there for him, as he spilled his heart to her about other girls. Even one he was engaged to, and she sat, asking for the bear’s thoughts on the matter. Rey always came back with some way to calm him down, reassuring him that he was better than them anyway.

“We’re all stupid,” she said. “We always want what we can’t have.”

He remembers looking at her smoothing out the small bear’s fur, except for the patch on the top that she liked to spike.

He asked her what she meant, and mouthed the conversation while he stood remembering the sequence as if it were a scene from a movie:

“What do you want Rey?” he asks her memory.

“You—you don’t know do you?”

He shook his head with the younger version of himself. “No.”

“You, Ben. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I wanted you as a friend. And when you became that, I wanted you as my best friend. And when you became that, I wanted more, and more, and I shouldn’t have. You’d tell me everything those other ungrateful girls did to you, and I wanted to be there for you. And now, here you are heartbroken again, and all I want is to comfort you... and be yours.” Her younger self shook her head with her eyes cast downward. “And I will nev—“

He remembers how he kissed her. How she fell into his embrace. He remembers how it felt different than those other girls. How it felt to be truly cared for in an embrace like hers. He stood watching his memory unfold. He held her close and promised to always be hers, and there they stayed until the street lights came on.

He remembers how her hand felt in his, how much she trembled, and he wasn’t sure if it was excitement that he was here doing this, or if it was nerves going home to a loveless family every night. He promised he would always be with her on her doorstep. He promised her a better life, because of the life she had already given him.

It is then when his vision snaps back into focus. Their past, their life, a good chunk of it has passed, and he wasn’t around for it. His skin tingles, then burns from the bridge of his nose outward over his cheeks. It continues to his ears and down the rest of his body. Dread fills him awfully. He caused this. He brought this pain in fear of uncertainty.

He thinks about when they got married and every life choice along the way, chalking it up to not knowing how to respond, so he didn’t. Ben ignored every problem through sleep, mostly. He didn’t think he was a bad husband or father. He never struck his kids. He always listened to them play their recorders, because, who could actually get away from those things? He showed up for every graduation, even if he thought the move from second to third grade was pointless. He let Rey decorate for Christmas on Thanksgiving, which drove him absolutely crazy...but he knew it was so she could enjoy the lights. He always came home... but that was just it... when he was home, he was never really there. He couldn’t think of the last time he and his wife got to sit down and talk...about anything. She shrunk away from him to the point where he started to blame her for things. He blamed her for his loneliness. He accused her of cheating on him. She ran from him... the first time she did it she spiked a sandwich. It’s actually how he knew he crossed a line with her. She never would have thrown food. No one would have...Not with her background at least.

His thoughts float back to the letter, then the room he tried putting back together, and finally to Rey, who didn’t bother making a sound, much less tried moving. In fact, when Ben musters up the courage to go check on her, she’s still there. She lays lifeless in his destruction. She’s so still he’s not sure if she’s breathing.

“Ba-by?” he asks, his voice is just above a whisper. When she doesn’t move, his body feels as though it’s being electrified with grief. His nerve endings burn as if he has been set of fire with worry. “Baby, it’s me?” he asks gently, trying to gauge if it is okay to come in.

Rey doesn’t move.

Her soul has been draining from her since the papers settled on his desk. Her body is useless and she’s unable to move anything, not even her eyelids.

Ben steps into the room carefully, crunching bits of metal and plastic below the bottom of his sneakers. “Baby?” he croaks trying not to accept that she might be gone. Every step bares another crunch below his feet until he gets to her. He fights back his sorrow for this mess they’re in. His eyes brim with tears, ready to fall at any moment. His words continue to catch in his throat as it constricts with each passing breath. “Sunshine?” he tries the nickname he gave her instead, asking her again, “Are you still here? Are you still with me?”

To this, her only response are new, hot tears, cascading down her face where the streaks from spent tears had dried.

The first thought in Ben’s mind was utter joy that she was still alive, and second, responding to him. He would take a tear—surely it is more than he deserves, he thinks. Ben tentatively kneels beside her, careful not to touch her yet. He treats her as he would a stray animal, who was unwilling to trust. He pulls at a drawer from a cabinet he stored computer parts, old phones and cameras in, to find Chewie.

Ben kept that silly little bear that Rey centered themselves around ever since that one day on his stoop. He stares at it reminiscing all of the times he hugged the stuffed animal throughout their marriage hoping that things would just turn around and be fine again. Like magic. It isn’t the bear that she needs right now. But he’s sure Chewie could help her see him again.

He lifts his eyebrows as he tucks the bear by her side and sings, “You Are My Sunshine” to her in hope that she’ll open her eyes. And by some miracle, maybe even accept him again.

The first time he sang it, she listened to him intently. She always loved his voice, and how he picked songs that meant something to them as the only ones that he’d sing to her. As she learned the lyrics, she’d hold onto him as if he was her anchor. Loving the way that he always just knew her—them. Ben knew them, and it was wonderful.

With every verse, he hears her whine. Her cries get louder, and more tears fall from her eyes until she is fully accepting another crying fit. Her eyes haven’t opened, but he can hear her take heavier breaths... he thinks maybe she might answer a question now if he asks, so he does.

“Can I hold you, baby? Please?” Ben’s barely able to ask her higher than a whisper. He takes in how she collapsed before, looking very similar to a wounded animal, extending her neck a little further than her arms that had folded under her body. He assumes she didn’t even try to catch herself given her position.

He watches her carefully as she tries a nod. Ben focuses on her as she lifts her eyelashes, revealing her glassy eyes that pin his. She makes a mucus bubble when she tries to speak, grimacing at how it feels not having control over herself. Rey’s arms still feel too heavy to move, so she doesn’t. She’s too drained to even wipe the popped mess on her chin, and even struggles when she says, “Don’t push me away, Ben. I...I can’t...take it.”

Fresh tears flow freely between the two, as he scoops up her weakened form.

“No. No. Never, Rey. I never want you to leave,” he cries.

Rey whimpers as she lay her head on his shoulder while he repeats promises to make this right. They sit for hours in the wake of his fury letting her find comfort in each other’s embrace.

It feels like forever has passed until she can feel her fingers again. The rest of Rey’s senses have seem to be reawakening, when she finally asks if it’s okay.

“Is what okay, Rey?” Ben asks curiously, still pressing his cheek into her grey highlights.

“If I touch you?” she knows it sounds like a ridiculous question, being that she is technically already, but he pushed her away so many times, it only seems right to ask.

Ben finds her eyes seeing fear; her fear. Unable to hold back his emotion, he cries, “Please. I need it. I need you. I’m so sorry Rey.”

Her fingers feel heavy as if they were filled with lead as she lifts them. Her target is his long grey peppered locks that fall over his eyes as they did when they were darker. As she tries, she barely brushes her fingers through his split ends, tracing his cheekbone, brushing them up and around the shell of his ear. The pair both let out a shaky sigh once her cautious action is completed.

“Again,” Ben whispers, pleading with her not to stop.

Her hand trembles while she repeats the gesture. Ben knows he could sit there all night letting her play with his hair, and try to reconnect with him on the very physical level they once shared. And so he does.

Her confidence slowly returns to her, and is finally able to card her fingers through his hair. His grays lift through her fingers hypnotizing her, spurring on her desire to watch them rise and fall continuously. She remembers missing the way he would lean into her as she braided his luscious obsidian hair—how he’d let her sit right behind him and ruffle it just for fun. She remembers how he used to shake when she drew light circles on his scalp with her nails, and tries that. The corners of her mouth quirk up suddenly when she gets the same response as it was in the past.

Ben sees it as it happens.

She’s smiling. It’s small, like a floating ember, but it’s there. He can hear himself beg her to keep smiling, to do anything she can just to keep that smile on her face. To him, her smile is his anchor, making him feel like he still has a chance. Her floating ember can grow. It will grow. He knows this because he’ll stop at nothing for Rey to return to him.

——

Over the coming months Rey’s become healthier. Their communication has grown stronger, her glow and easygoing attitude have returned to her. They spend most nights talking after work, keeping Chewie close, especially while she tells Ben stories about her role as the mother of his children. Ben’s heart lurches when he hears most of the things she’s been through with them. He struggles to accept that Benjamin changed his name the moment he turned eighteen—but he has to.

“It’s not your life,” Rey says firmly.

“But I caused it.”

“We both did.” Rey says with finality. “Do not challenge him about it. Welcome him by his chosen name when he’s here,” she says.

Ben practices it, still finding it hurtful, regardless of what his wife has said. But, it’s his name, and he’s doing well. He tries reasoning with himself again, thinking, ‘he could be drinking or overdosing somewhere...’

Rey’s stories about how Matthew would lose his mind and have the weirdest tantrums she had ever seen, seemed to do a number on her though. Matthew would protest leaving the park, screaming like he was being abducted. In preschool he would lick the car out of frustration that he couldn’t go to someone else’s house instead of his own. And God, she was pregnant and still lifting his heavy ass as he proceeded with the tantrums over not getting to roll in the snow before school.

Bianca —her photo book made him cry. She was magnificent, down to her little toes. She had her mother’s ears, he thanked God for that too, but she held so many of his features. He was such a shit about it so many years ago.

“You’ll have more chances to make this right,” Rey says as she holds him and Chewie together.

“How? They’re grown...”

“No one is ever really all grown up, Ben,” Rey comforts him. “Eventually, they’ll all look for love, get married, and have their own families,” she says.

He huffs a sigh, asking, “What if they don’t want me in it? I’ve wronged them in so many ways.”

“Teach them,” she says as she clasps her hand in his, “I’ll help you.”


End file.
